


DOOMed Angels: An Exercise in Extreme Fetishes

by SaltyTeaLeaves



Category: Christian Mythology - Fandom, Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Anal, Anal Knotting, Anal Purging, Anal Squirting, Anus worship, Bestiality, Curses, Degradation, Demons and Angels, Explicit Sexual Content, Glittery vomit, Humiliation, Hypnosis, Knotting, M/M, Monstrous dicks, Other, Oxygen Deprivation, Rimming, Sacrilege, Size Difference, Teratophilia, Unrealistic Vomit, Vomiting, ass worship, dubcon, noncon, puffy anus, sexual curses, vomit play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyTeaLeaves/pseuds/SaltyTeaLeaves
Summary: Set in the DOOM (2016-Eternal) series, an androgynous, agender Angel (Or Maykr) is forced to submit to the cruelties and lusts of Hells denizens.These chapters are beyond kinky, and not recommended for the faint of heart.
Relationships: Agender Angel x Male Demons
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter One: An Angel, and their experiences with a very large demon arsehole.

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHORS NOTE: You may spot the word 'Purge' from time to time. It is a particular fetish that essentially boils down to the anus of the character trying pre-emptively to tighten down on a dick, instead forcing out air and juices (since in these fanfictions we do so enjoy treating the arsehole almost exactly like a vagina, and then some).
> 
> JUST TO CLARIFY; THERE IS NO SCAT OR GAS INVOLVED IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM.

So, consider this; an angel commander, bound in pure whites and polished gold - their disciplined, moral army decimated in a bloody battle, fallen brethren torn apart and massacred by the veritable wave of demons. Left in the crimson-mud and ash of battle, surrounded by destruction and carnage, trembling in distinctly unrighteous terror looking up at the massive, blood-splattered Cyberdemon in all his glory. Steam rising off his tight muscles, sweat dripping down over his charred armour and tight, scarred muscles, slipping along defined curves and drifting along a particularly thick, unhidden length. No doubt the wide-hipped, battle-weathered angel had seen plenty of demons - many more had fallen to their holy blade, but to be in the *presence* of such a powerful, gargantuan beast would chill them to their core.  
They wouldn't even be as thick as his powerful thighs - though those wide, grippable hips many angels bear would come close.   
Imagine the terror they would feel when the warlord stands over them, massive foot slamming onto their defined ribcage, causing bones to snap and a gurgling shriek to escape their mouth, only silenced by the growling chortle drifting free of that mandible'd beast as it runs its claw along a semi-erect member; armoured, pierced, and so very forbidden, despite the unheard squeak escaping the holy being's tight, desperate rim begging for it.   
This terror would only be furthered as the mighty behemoth reaches down to grip the angel by its eyeless head, and though it squawks in rebellion it knows they fall upon deaf ears, for soon enough it is quite literally dragged behind the demon, and brought face-to-face with the most "repulsive" sight in their ever-lasting life.   
Two perfect, tight demon buns - spotted and marred with scars and patches of darkened skin, shiny with sweat and literally steaming with heat. Even a metre back they can feel the raw, fiery heat that rages between those cheeks, and yet they cannot take their eyes away from it. Eager imps crawl up behind the weakened leader, holding it in place as the cyberdemon relinquishes his grip of the victim and spreeaaaaaaaaads his thick rump with one hand.   
How the angel's pure, golden heart would sink in their chest beholding that monstrous rim. As thick as their torso, puffy and dark from centuries of (shall we say) "enthusiastic use". A thick, transparent trickle of juices bubble and ooze out of the Baalgar's smoldering hole, dripping down over those heavy balls and dropping into the blood-puddle beneath him. The hole glows from within - raw heat rising off it, and cinders drifting free of the ash-scented doughnut. Bitter, and raw, it pulses in anticipation for the new cushion that is being pushed (despite its weak squirming and prayers to God for mercy) mere inches from the massive rim. A barking command tells them to kiss it - and it puckers just for the captive, but they refuse in a fit of ungrateful disobedience.   
  
Such a display deserves punishment, and that sharp claw returns on their head once more to smush their face right into that hole, squealing in disgust as they are ground up and down against the squeaking hole. The hot golden piercing feels almost cool compared to the volcanic heat of his mammoth pucker, juices seeping into their ("unfortunately") unlipped maw, making their tongue go numb and their mind drift to unsavoury, unholy, and outright ungodly thoughts.   
But demons aren't known to only punish someone a little, and so when commanded to open their mouth (a request they now, with jittery jaw, fulfill) their mouth is filled with that doughy, thick pucker, and the strong flavour of demon fuckpit. No hope is permitted for their tongue not to be squished up against that rubbery rim, and so their moment of obedience turns into reluctant compliance as they start licking.  
A decision they would immediately regret.  
The palate of angels is untainted with food or flesh - instead only permitted to drink the sap of the Holy garden's trees on reverant holidays. The first true taste beyond the gates of heaven would be blood in their mouths whilst fighting, and even then that would be permittable compared to the borderline volcanic hole, with the taste of ash and brimstone assailing their tongue, making them retch and gag. But they dare not cease licking. Unable to behold or sense anything other than the hole, they attempt to cry out to the Lord within the confines of their mind, but halt; realizing what He would behold down here amongst the beast of Hell would forever shame them in his eyes. Moreso for their petite, twitching cock tenting beneath their loincloth, but only the giggling imps bear witness to that.

What would God say if He saw one of his beloved angels licking, and slobbering all over that Hellhole? Taking long, shameful inhales of the lust-soaked rim, shaking in sinful delight as their mind goes number and number, and though they might barely stand against that hole? Their legs have gone weak, and they rely solely on the beast's grip to hold them up.  
No, God would condemn their sin and cast them from Heaven at the sight of it.

True enough, a lustful wreck at first, but then their suffering only furthers as they are held even firmer in place, and that huge rim tightens. Fear and horror shake them back to reality, realization coursing through their soul as they strain to be free. God is not that merciful, and neither is their new deity. Bubbling, hot spurts and splutters of overlubed asshole against their face, demon juices forced down their throat as their mouth and lungs are tainted with pheromones. It takes a solid minute for the demon to stop pulsing and squeaking and purging **LOUDLY**, but by the time he has the angel has already squirted, glittery cum dribbling down their legs from between their perky cheeks.  
Dazed and disoriented, their suffering is only furthered when thrust back into the mud and blood with a wet splash. Though they are without eyes, the angel can still see what horrors beckon on the horizon, and they know full well that when it spreads its rump once more, this time they are going to be so well acquainted with that hole that they might never be the same.   
Worse; they might never WANT to be the same.  
An idea that makes their pretty, slim cock twitch and dribble with excitement. 


	2. Chapter Two: An Angel, and their glittery vomit.

  
The mighty demon spared no time in permitting one of God's more beloved children a break, and spread his thick, heavy rump once more for the dazed creature, who began obediently climbing up before being pushed face-first into the muck of the battlefield with a whimper. No, walking was no longer permitted, and so they were forced to crawl on all fours. Like an animal, like a *mortal.* The angelic being's wide hips swayed from side to side with every pathetic step, timidly looking up at its destination of gargantuan proportion: a set of wide, spread cheeks pressed out, courtesy of the demon taking a knee in the carnage. A firm "THWACK" fell upon the holy creature's perky rear, ejecting a squeal of surprise and pain, before another of the imps jammed their foot down on their back. Again and again, the blows continued, but the angel's determination to avoid the Baalgar's (likely infinitely worse) wrath came first, and so they came once again up to that rear despite the blows, though sore and stinging, not to mention the cracked ribs screaming at them to ask for God's healing warmth. A sharp, thunderous bark filled their heart with dread when commanded to "Sniff it, like a Hellhound." The very notion that the angel might be akin to such beasts made its stomach churn in disgust, but the shift of those raw muscles, and the glint of that sizable arm-cannon inspired it to obey immediately. 

Despite being so recently associated with the hole, the heat surprised it still as they nuzzled against the thick, squeaking rim. Glowing cinders drifted free of the fiery hole, and the heat rising out with the steady stream of juices only served to assure the once-noble creature that the might demon was, indeed, getting off on this.   
Repulsion flooded their soul, not to mention the thick miasma of demon sweat and pheromones practically destroying their moral compass. Every breath in was followed by a squeak, given the demon was clearly happy with the attention, as was his pulsing hole. Soon enough the imps gripped the angel's arms, and head, forcing it in place as once again that massive pucker was smushed against their mouth. The command was muffled by those weighty cheeks, but they knew what was expected; Their mouth opened, and soon enough the hot, pheromone-flooded vibrations of a dry anal-orgasm flooded their lungs and brutalised their palate. There was no chance of *not* breathing it in, and their head spun around and around, nausea assailing them as they tried desperately to resist the snickering hellspawns' grip. Something of a plea - a cry for mercy - escaped the angel's sanctified maw, begging for this to stop. Their cries were swallowed up in another cheek-clapping purge, making their cock twitch obviously within the angel's gilded crotch-cloth. No longer could they maintain the expect virtuous grace, visibly gagging as they tried to keep all that sick in.  
The demon did not listen when they warned him, pleading for a break before they sully his hole (as if something so slimy and dark was ever considered 'pristine'.  
Instead he seemed almost... pleased with the notion, and hooked his claws into his puckered oven, spreading the darker-shaded rim into a glowing gape as the angels mouth was pushed partly inside as another sickening purge broke their defenses. Hot, bubbling sick burst free of their mouth with an exceptionally unholy noise, flooding that sweaty hole with blueish-silver vomit, that promptly spluttered out around their mouth and dripped down off the beasts heavy sack. The taste was almost as bad as the ash-y hole they were currently mouth-to-rim with, at least for the course of their vomitting, before being permitted to fall back in the blood once more. Puke dangled from their mouth, head spinning and guts totally empty as they blankly stared up at some shifting form above. 

Something blotted out the sky for a second. An eclipse, perhaps? No, it was their darkest desires manifest in the most muscular, sweaty form possible, and then? That massive pucker smothered their entire face. Though the angel's vomit bore no acidic scent, the flavour still repulsed that holy being all the same. The thick, slimy, gravelly-glitter texture was worse enough, but to have it tainted by the thick, dark hole, spurting and squeaking out into their mouth? Such was a torture most cruel. The prisoner failed to elicit their intended scream of horror as it quickly flooded their stomach to the brim, and ended up overflowing all over their face and chest. Deeming the angel properly... "punished", the cyberdemon rose, tongue sliding along his sharp, fanged mandibles as all four eyes lingered on the messy slut. The angel was a wreck - coughing up sick in gooey, noisy retches, chest and face covered in demon arse-juices and shiny vomit.   
The best part? Was the wet stain upon its loincloth, and a faint lump indicating at some point it had indeed came during that.  
Disgusting.


	3. Chapter Three: An Angel, and an Assortment of Hellhound Arseholes

  
There is a change in current to the air - a shift of perspectives as an expected guest arrives fashionably late. Though their vision is muddied by silvery puke, the angel manages to catch a glimpse of this facsimile of their brethren, albeit of distinctly demonic design. Their near corset-like waist, and long flowing robe-like-appendages, are of one, complete, fleshy body, with a set of perky tits standing at attention, with a slim, corrupted angelic cock dangling exposed between their tight thighs upon two perfectly round balls.   
The words spoken are garbled, distant to the weakly squirming, vomit splattered angel, but the Baalgar disapproves of the summoner's lateness. A sharp stomp of this newcomer's rather vicious heel yanks the ruined angel back into awareness, complete with a fresh cough of glittery sick spurting from their mouth, now gaping and panting as strings of the goop dangle from their sharp, split chin.   
Several imps drag the angel up (though many express disgust at the filthy state it's in, despite their erect lengths promising such uncivil form does not detract from their need to violate the angel until it is a gaping, bruised toy) onto their knees, head rolling on their shoulders as they wonder just what the summoner is chanting. Red symbols surround the captive's vision, and a strong burning sensation carves its way across their throat. Sudden terror fills the holy being as they claw at their throat, oxygen so suddenly cut off. Panic fills their eyeless skull, desperately, wordlessly pleading to the Baalgar for mercy, and when the hulking brute chuckles at their misery? To the newcomer, who raises a leg and reveals their pulsing, pierced ring. In many ways it resembles an angels pucker, but it clearly is far looser, and more abused than the captive would dare to imagine their own might become.   
That squeaking ring is pressed up against the angels skull-like nose, and the over-lubed squirt that splatters against the tainted messenger of God brings with it shocking revelation as well as permission to breath (Albeit with a lungful of bitter, demon-arsehole air) if just for a moment. This curse is designed to bring them lower than the lowest; their basic need for air tainted with the promise of demon arse with every breath.  
A heavy claw grips the angel by the head, raising it to the Cyberdemon's glowing gaze. Suffocation beckons as they squirm there, trying to mouth a request most shameful to the big brute. Where they permitted back behind him they might just manage some coherency, given just how squeaky he is. No such luck. They are thrown to the horde of imps, with sharp claws immediately pulling the angel down amongst the filthy beings, and into *their* domain.  
Suddenly the angel is within a very different world - one where the red sky is barely visible amidst the sea of amber and violet skin, with all manner of eager, sharp claws raking over the messy slut despite their silent screams of mercy.

Opening their mouth was a bad idea, and soon a tight, violet pucker is forced into their holy mouth, purging directly upon their tongue and denying their consciousness the escape of sleep. Hot, twitching cocks push at every inch of the angels armoured body, grinding across their arms and thighs, and though none push between those barely hidden cheeks, claws easily hook in and yank on the twitching, perfectly pale hole, causing the captive to squeal in pain and a twisted, growing sense of pleasure.   
All the while, the summoner floats above, chuckling as it watches the maddened frenzy, gently stroking their pierced, but ringed cock (release is, after all, only permitted in **CERTAIN** company). The angel is, for the time being, its latest toy to ruin for the great warlord, and it will do so with a passion only the most twisted of lovers know.  
A hot splatter of cum shoots across the angel's face, soaking into their lipless maw, immediately replaced with a pulsing, repulsive imp fuckpit that drypurges against the faintly glowing seed.  
Again and again, they feel eager claws tugging on their limbs, hot cocks grinding on them and sweaty, slick holes squeaking on their face and body, though no attention is given to that twitching, dribbling length of holy flesh tenting their stained loincloth. Time becomes a swirl, drifting amidst a torment they barely manage to get through without resorting to such desperate measures as licking those demon hellholes, though many a time they came agonizingly close, especially when they were already squished between their sharp (but ultimately harmless) fangs.  
After hours of this eager torment the angel is left ass up in the blood and mud of the battlefield, their pretty little fuckpit faintly gaping and bubbling with juices as a long-denied, weak orgasm escapes their hole in a gross splutter. Their gaze is blurred, faded, and they claw at the bored imps gradually leaving the molested being, but none look back. Only the summoner, who is still giggling to itself in that granite-like, heavy voice, remains. Every time the pathetic wretch reaches for the floating creature it drifts juuuuuuuuust out of reach, relishing in their torment. The Baalgar is nowhere to be seen, and desperation urges the angel to look for... "alternatives".   
But a few metres away a figure of red, tight muscles plated in dark armour, and lined with thick, mangy fur rolls about in the mud of the carnage. One of the few remaining demons revelling in the aftermath - a filthy hellhound. Their heart sinks lower and lower into the mud as they scrape their way closer to the creature, knowing full well just what they are about to do. What they *MUST* do, lest this wicked sorcerer claims victory. At first, the great beast growls at them. So close now that the hot, bloody breath of the animal assails the angel's face, but upon seeing the weakling's submissive posture? Permits them closer.  
As the angel crawls around the curious beast, they catch a glimpse of his sizable sheath, and low, heavy hanging balls, before making it to the rump of the wide-hipped creature. All sound is but a faint memory beneath the ringing of their ears, but were they able to hear they would weep alongside the loud, eager cackling of the cruel summoner as they pull up beneath the beasts tail. Right before their eyes is a huge, black, puffy fuckpit, slick with grime and ash. Though it is not nearly as big as the demon lords, it is easily as wide as the angel's face. Were it cindering and smouldering with the heat of the hell-lord they might consider suffocation instead of this horror.   
Their stomach churns in disgust as they hook a finger into the massive hole, mouth open and soft, hot tongue pressed against the bitter, revolting hole, before pulling on the rim. Their vision clears, and their hearing comes back to the sloppy sound of a hole-straining purge flooding their ears, not to mention their nose with the repulsive smell of doggy insides.   
The heavenly figure audibly retches, though their stomach is long-since empty. Once again they tug on the hole, but only a weak bubble escapes it. Eager not to pass out upon this gory field, the angel sacrifices their last vestiges of self-respect and proceed to drag their tongue up along the sweaty hole, earning another brief opportunity to breathe with a filthy squeak. The ever-taunting demon comments on how well this suits them, and though they chance a hateful glance back at the hellspawn, they must admit something feels so... right like this. Thighs spread, crouching behind the beast as they lick and gently nibble on the revolting hole, rocking their plump aft back and forth in shame as the thick, dark rim squirts and squeaks against their face, and around their deeply venturing, coiling tongue. Within a matter of minutes, however, the rest of the pack arrives, circling this newcomer but (for now) keep a wary distance from the summoner, lest they earn its ire.

For a moment the angel pulls away, strands of saliva dangling between their dribbling maw and that pulsing hole, considering whether they might have enough energy to flee, to crawl back to Heaven, or at least some brief respite from the Hell they currently endure. From beyond those grippable, bestial hips, the floating demon beckons to the angel, directing them to the twitching hound hole before it, and the beasts swaying rear.   
The sullied Heavenly resident does not want to do it, but they know the vile demon will gladly watch them suffocate if they refuse. Already their breath is becoming haggard, and raspy, and so with what little strength they have left; the angel mounts the huge dog, erect length immediately pressing against the squeaking hole, now lowered by the clearly eager mutt.

Though the beast lets out a faint yelp, they easily sliding their tiny, precum-oozing cock into its slimy beast-hole with a squelch, and a particular sentiment becomes apparent to the angel. For one they have never felt so worthy of righteous destruction in their life for their sins, but as they slide into that pulsing, dark hole they know nothing has ever felt so pleasurable to their immortal form in all the centuries it has spent in Heaven. The slick, slimy sensation, soft and weakly attempting to tighten around the punitive member might as well be Heaven, though their lust has clearly sunk to the most horrid depths of Hell.   
Wet, sloppy claps of sweaty-hips-on-blood-soaked-beast-rear escape across the nearly vacant battlefield as the gradually suffocating angel humps the hound. Each thrust earns a shiver of delight from both parties, though the hound clearly is permitted to pant and whine more than the slowly choking angel-slut. In less than a minute the recently virginal humanoid comes; hot, gooey glitter-cum flooding the filthy hounds lowered rear. Each hot string of seed bursting free of that once pure, petite cock feels a thousand times better than what was experienced alone in the less watched corners of God's realm. But the summoner is not impressed, as a quick, weak glance up at their shaking head informs.

  
Thus, the angel is forced to keep going, length still solid as glittery cum dribbles down from the hole and drips from the mammoth beast's weighty balls, just short of its hip-shattering dual-knots. Their "reward" for such enthusiasm is one of the larger hounds approaching, seeing just how useful this new thing is, and thanks to their grand size? Lifts their tail to reveal yet another thick, black pucker pushed up to eye-level, which twitches in expectation of attention.The angel immediately smushes their pale face against the soot-covered hole with a revolting squelch, slobbering over it as they're rewarded with a lubricated purge and sweet relief at last. Their lungs scream in agony as the hot air burns deep within, and their tongue has only tasted worse earlier today (though this in no way detracts from the ash-y taste of grimy doggy fuckhole - brimstone and beastjuices burn what memory of Heaven's honeyed delights remain away). Other hounds soon approach, grinding their twitching, squeaking rumps on the curvy, holy flesh, growling in delight at this rarely felt pleasure.   
Unfortunately for the angel, all this pushing and shoving throws them off balance, and they fall back into the murky blood with a splat. Their tongue is completely numb from all the pheromones in the steamy, misty air, unable to think of anything other than the raw taste of doggy insides as another hound immediately forces his weighty donut on the toys face.   
Soon every inch of the holy being is covered in squeaking, purging holes. Respect and dignity be damned! They simply cannot get enough of it, hooking their fingers into any hole present and quite literally tongue-fucking those slimy holes like a depraved slut. What was once a mind dedicated to prayer and hymns is now lost in a swirling sea of big, pulsing holes; of which the owner kisses and drainedly tugs on each hole to be blasted with hot hound-hole orgasms. For a treat they are permitted to slide their tongue into something other than a hole, but the taste still lingers as they spread their maw for a dog's tongue. Saliva drips between their mouths as the ruined whore slobbers all over themselves, passionately kissing the literal animal, lost in the lust of the scene with this momentary "lover".   
However, all is not perfect in this wicked pleasure, for every splutter of hound arse juices (and the air "unfortunately" trapped inside) permits less and less air, despite how very sexually charged and noisy the untamed beasts are getting. It would seem the summoner is has decreed the angel will pass out after all, only furthering the sluts desperation. Whether that desperation is to stay conscious, or to manage their tainted tongue deep into all those now simultaneously faintly gaping, saliva-coated doggy puckers?

Neither the angel nor any watching would know for certain.  
How depraved, how wretched, how pathetic the angel must look; on all fours, being squished into so many holes, their face pressing into the bubbling rims so much so that (were their head but a bit smaller) they just might squeeze inside and truly lose their already fragile mind. What would the other angels say now that their commander is worshipping these grimy bestial holes, a hand between their taut thighs as they tug and finger their squeaking, little hole, fantasizing about being knotted and raped by the entire pack.   
Enthusiasm grows stronger and stronger still as darkness blurs the edge of their vision, limbs growing numb and too weak to even rise. The last thing the angel experiences before submitting to the wicked Summoner's curse-bound choking is a distinctly familiar, faintly gaping donut smushed into their mouth, returning their own still-warn cum to the whore with the wettest, bubbling purge of soul-ruining quality this eve, complete with lust so potent that the pheromones outright break the angel's mind. They were made for this! Gargling their own cum, gulping it down between weak throat-squirts within this veritable cage of beastly arses. They're so low that their seed does not even deserve to be kept within a horrible, slimy beasts puffy, darkened fuckhole. They're the lowest of the low - and yet they want only to be forced lower still, until sucking doggy fuckpits is their crowning achievement in life. 


End file.
